Ballistic
by WhirledPeace
Summary: I'm Sai. In my profession, you meet a lot of interesting people, and help them find the correct medecation, or sedatives. Yet, with all the stories they bring, I've learned stories often intertwine. AU SaiIno, implied KisaIta, rated: language, slight yaoi
1. Chapter 1

A/N: WP is back! I decided since everyone is sad their winter break is over, I'd make up a story! This one expresses my want to be a psychologist. I've decided it's what I want to do, so I wrote about it! Kind of the way people write songs to express themselves... only I get mine reviewed. So please enjoy!

-WP

* * *

I sighed, looking down at my clipboard. Just recently a group of teens had been apprehended for something or other, and now I, the head of the Orange Country Juvenile Hall psychiatric ward, am now left with hour sessions with each of them, once a week each. This was nothing new, in fact, I had talked to many psychotic children. But this group, everyone warned me, was different. The police and other officers involved in the cases had all passed along that these teenagers were insane. But I firmly believed that if you give someone a chance, they can turn out at least half-descent. Anyone.

So now I had my first session with a boy by the name of Kakuzu. He knocked politely on my door and I called for him to enter. He was tall, and tan, with little green blood-shot eyes that darted around the room. I smiled politely and offered him a seat. He took it and then turned his piercing gaze to me. "So you're Kakuzu?" I asked. He grunted. "Good. Now then, tell me a little about yourself." Kakuzu stared at me for a long moment. "All right then." I doodled a little airplane in the margins of my paper. "Can you tell me why you're here?"

"You already know that," Kakuzu shot lazily.

"I haven't heard your side."

"Will it change my sentence?"

"Maybe."

"I don't work with maybe. I only work with certainties." I nodded, making a note of this.

"And why do you feel that way?"

"Because it's easier." I nodded. This was pretty straight-forward: he obviously didn't like doubt or chance, and preferred having things under his own control.

"And you value how easy things are?"

"Can you draw that conclusion?" I smiled.

"Mostly. But I'd like to hear your opinion."

"My opinion?" Kakuzu's little eyes darted around, and landed on my pen. "That can write in outer space, can't it? Worthy quite a lot, isn't it?"

"I suppose. It was a gift, you see," I replied, looking at the pen. Kakuzu shrugged. I could tell he was avoiding actually addressing my interest in him. "Do you like it?" Kakuzu shrugged. "I see. Is there anything else in this room that is valuable?"

"Not particularly," he said lazily, eyes only running over everything, having already taken an inventory. I made note of this. He had an eye for worth, and only material worth, it seemed. Perhaps he put his faith in inanimate objects for fear of reaction of some sort, say rejection, or scorn. "I know what you're trying to do," he said slowly, looking at me. "And it may work. Then again, it may not. Many people have tried to get inside my head, and none have been successful." I smiled politely.

"I'm only here to help," I replied. "We'll talk more later." After he left, I took stock of everything. He had taken two of my pens, and a few unimportant papers. Sighing, I sat back. They'd be back soon anyway, and if they weren't, they were worth sacrificing to figure this one out.

* * *

"Hi! I'm Tobi!" As soon as I saw this one, I estimated a learning disability, slight autism, and possibly a fear of growing up, or obsession with childish antics.

"Have a seat, Tobi," I said, smiling.

"All right, Tobi is a good boy!" he said, sitting down. He seemed older in body, and younger in mind, than he was on paper. And third person. Probably something in a developmental stage.

"Tell me, Tobi, how did a good boy like you get mixed up in a crowd like Akatsuki?" I asked.

"Zetsu-sempai is part of Akatsuki! And Tobi's a good boy, so he does whatever he's told." Well, he obviously needed to reassure himself pretty often. And had some bizarre attachment that contradicted his image of himself.

"Who is Zetsu?"

"Zetsu is Tobi's sempai! And so is Deidara sempai!"

"Are these people both boys?"

"Yes sir!" I nodded. So he had an attachment to two of the other teenagers.

"And you got mixed up for what reason?"

"Tobi can't remember," Tobi admitted. "They found me, so I hang out with them!" Imprinting, obviously.

"You don't remember? Why is that?"

"They say I probably hit my head or something, but I don't remember who I was!"

"And where did the name Tobi come from?"

"Zetsu-sempai gave it to me!" This one must have been the first. Then did that make his attachment to the second one less, or more founded?

"What happened after Zetsu gave you your name?"

"He became my sempai! And he brought me into Akatsuki!"

"If you're a good boy, why are you in jail?" Tobi paused, looking at me. I looked back politely.

"Because a good boy never leaves his Sempai, no matter what!"

"Did your sempai tell you to leave?" Tobi looked down, a moment of sadness flashing across his features. Obsessive attachment, abandonment issues, separation anxiety, the works.

"Well, Zetsu was caught, but he knew I could get out. But I'm a good boy, so I wouldn't leave him!" He was now justifying himself to me, thus the first person. Probably. This one was so easy. "Tobi doesn't want to talk anymore. Tobi wants to go to sleep."

"And that's fine, Tobi. We'll talk later, all right?"

* * *

The girl before me hadn't said a word, and barely made a sound the entirety of her presence here. Given that wasn't more than a minute, it didn't seem so fantastic, but it was quite unusual. She looked straight into my eyes, her own cold ones and my polite (I hope!) ones. "Konan, correct?" The girl made no movement or even a noise of acknowledgement. "Well hello. How are you today?" Nothing. "I know that sheet with all the different emotions on it is rather patronizing, so I'll just start naming some, all right?" Nothing. "Apathetic?" If she moved on this one, she was putting up a front. If she didn't, she was truly the stoniest person I'd ever had. She didn't even flinch. I checked her file. Only sixteen. I felt like bursting into spontaneous applause, but restrained myself. I'd just have to congratulate her in my mind. "Well then, where shall we start?"

Her eyes were focused, so I didn't suspect drugs. She watched me with a certain intelligent attention, as if I was conversing with someone else and she were merely a third party observing. "Why are you here?" She blinked, only because her eyes were getting dry. Well, it seemed like I couldn't get through to her that way. But I had my ways of getting through to her. "I had a cousin like you," I began. "Not that she was as pretty, or as self-motivated, but she could win any staring contest, even against a fish." I smiled as she continued to observe me. "Tell me, do you win string contests?" This blatant ignorance of her position, as dictated by her file, might draw a reaction. Nothing. Now perhaps she thought I was stupid and not worth her time. "I always said she was part fish, the way she could keep her eyes open. She could even sleep with them open!" I laughed slightly as it hit me. "Seems you haven't gotten enough of that lately, eh?" I moved my head to the side, and her eyes didn't follow. I snapped my fingers, but still got no reaction. I touched her shoulder, and instantly it was slapped away, and she was glaring hatefully at me.

Disgusted with physical contact, perhaps? Resentful of friendliness? I had no clue, but quickly retracted my hand. "I'll get a guard to escort you back to your bed. It seems you need the rest.

* * *

This one was a work of art. He flamboyantly entered the room with a grand gesture, and dismissed his guard as if he were a king. Giving me a lovely smile, he bowed and seated himself, looking attentively and politely at me. "Hello, I'm Deidara, un," he said. I smiled as well. His radiance seemed infectious. "I think you're a complete bastard, and I doubt there's anything you can ever do about it in your life, yeah." Neither of our smiles left.

"Well, I'd like to be able to change your mind. Now then, what would you like me to know about you?"

"Know about me? Very little, un."

"I'm sorry?"

"Very little, un," he repeated, patronizingly slow.

"What was that last word?"

"Little, un."

"Un?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you realize you made a nasally, grunting sound at the end of your sentence?"

"Why yes, Einstein, of course I did, yeah!"

"And this time you didn't say it. Do you have control over that?" The boy glowered at me. Touchy, he probably couldn't control it. "Do you have any idea why you do that?"

"No, un," he spat. The exterior was completely an act, and I should probably not attribute anything before this point to his personality. It was too quick a change to be bipolar, anyway.

"I don't suppose your parents-"

"Don't talk about them, un!" he cried, leaping to his feet. This was a child who was easily agitated, given to loud outbursts, and had anger boiling particularly close to his skin. Quite childish. I checked his file. Fourteen! No wonder!

"All right, let's talk about something else. Do you have any interests?"

"Art, yeah."

"Oh really? Tell me about that."

"Better yet, I'll show you, un!" Before I knew what happened I was knocked back by a scalding heat, and I heard many things crash. Above all, though, I could hear Deidara's maniacal laughter and saw him blur out the window. Carefully I stood up, brushing myself off and looking around my rather singed office. I then turned to look out the broken window as Deidara tore across the lawn. He couldn't possibly think he could escape, yet he was trying. What was he doing? Were the logic circuits in his mind failing? Or, more likely, did he have an attachment to free will? Would he be like a cooped up bird, unable to escape but fervently throwing himself against his bars? The guards had caught him now. I'm glad they didn't shoot. Perhaps he would hate himself if he didn't at least try. Sirens were now blaring, and many more officers rushed onto the small lawn. Slowly, I turned from the window and made my way down the hall, where I found a certain someone. My next patient, in fact.

"Nice try," I said, genuinely approving. "I like that psychotic little pawn of yours. Nice distraction he makes. Since I have you here, how about we go down to my office for a little chat?" The boy in front of me sniffed reproachfully. It beat me how they could all communicate, but hell, this was sure interesting.

* * *

"Well then, Nagato?" The boy glared at me.

"Call me Pein."

"All right. And you can call me Death." The little joke was taken very poorly.

"It's spelled P-E-I-N," he said stiffly. No confidence problem here, oh no. At least there was a certain amount of self-assurance.

"All right then, Pein, where do you get a name like that?"

"I came up with it."

"What was wrong with Nagato?"

"That's a different person, you see. Sort of like I changed, so my name had to change, you understand?"

"How did you change?" Pein shook his head, holding up a reprimanding finger with a sift smile on his lips.

"Ah- Ah- Ah, doctor, you don't expect it to be that easy, do you?"

"Granted."

"Not everyone has access to such information, you understand, don't you?" I nodded.

"That makes sense." I'd say a little more than merely self-assured. This was a cocky, arrogant little bastard. "You're the leader of your little group, aren't you?" Pein nodded modestly.

"Yes," he said nonchalantly.

"How do they view you?"

"Depends on the person in question. Konan worships me, but there are some who would be elsewhere if they had anywhere else to go, or anyone else in the world."

"Could you describe your gang in one to two adjectives?"

"Abused and cock-sure."

"Your gang, young man, not yourself," I said. He glared at me.

"I did exactly as you asked. Of my gang, I consider myself the most compliant."

"I'll give you that much. At least you're not setting off bombs and- oh, whoops, you did orchestrate that, didn't you?" Pein smirked.

"And it was pretty good, wasn't it?" I nodded.

"Quite. And believable. He's suicidal, isn't he? Doesn't really care about logic or being rational, does he?" Pein nodded.

"Very. But you'll figure all that out later. Quite a sad little story, I must admit. Who's next on your list?" I checked.

"Hoshigaki Kisame." Pein laughed.

"An easy one. Not the least bit psychotic. You'll learn all about that." Pein got up and stretched. "Well, I'd better be leaving."

"Good. We'll talk later."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey all! I've been doing research like crazy, trying to find laws and such in America. Damn it's confusing. So if I've bent a few things, and dissolved some others, don't get mad. XD Anyway, enjoy and review!

-WP

* * *

"Hey," Kisame greeted casually, sitting lazily in the chair. He was tall and burly, much the same build as Kakuzu.

"Hello, Kisame. How are you doing today?" Blue. He was doing blue. I tried not to snicker at my joke. But it was true, he was one of the ugliest little boys I had ever seen, with a blue complexion and blue hair. Kisame shrugged.

"All right. The food here doesn't have enough meat, but hey, I can deal," he shrugged his big shoulders and grinned, showing rather pointed teeth. There was something off about this boy.

"I could put in a word about that," I said, doodling a little flying saucer. "How does a nice, strapping young man like yourself get mixed up with such a group of hoodlums?" Kisame hooted with laughter.

"Hoodlums! That's funny!" He then shrugged. No definite opinions or feelings, then? He was stupid, I could tell. Too stupid to be Pein's pawn. "I like killing things. And destroying things. I used to kill goldfish, and that was fun, and I just moved up." Likes destruction. Well then, that was pretty obvious. All he had was his brute strength, perhaps at one point in his life he had only had his body to depend upon? Maybe he was used to just solving things with force?

"So Akatsuki suited your taste?"

"I guess you could put it that way. As long as I follow Itachi, I don't get caught."

"Who is Itachi?"

"Uchiha Itachi."

"That's helpful."

"He's probably your next patient or something." I checked my papers. Eerie…

"I take it Pein has his sources?"

"I'd say so." Oh! Kakuzu stole my papers! Of course they all knew! But if it was a certainty, why did he say probably? Was he being smart, or did he have a certain amount of doubt? And following this Itachi? Was he dependent?

"How would you describe your relationship with Itachi?" Kisame laughed.

"That's a bit personal, don't you think? At least be a little more subtle about it." There was my answer, but he thought I was coming from another more one-dimensional thought process. Was he grossly underestimating me, or was this often that people had such assumptions? I'd go with the latter.

"Are other people more subtle about it?"

"Itachi is." I almost laughed.

"All right, enough about that. Why do you follow Pein?"

"Suites my taste." Hey, that was my answer! You insecure tool! He's avoiding my question. Maybe he's smarter than I gave him credit at first.

"And your tastes are…?"

"Killing and destruction. Chaos is optional."

"And why do you enjoy these things?" Kisame shrugged. Oh, he knew. He just wasn't telling. I'm willing to bet in his childhood. "All right, we'll talk later."

* * *

He reminded me of Konan, personally. He watched me, but made no hint of acknowledgement. "So you're Itachi, I presume?" I had been warned he was also arrested for the murder of his parents. "How does a nice boy like you end up with a crowd like Akatsuki?"

"It's socially unacceptable for me to be free. They accepted me." After the murder of his parents he ran, and ended up with anyone who would accept him.

"What are your goals in life?" I asked. "You were an ambitious child, weren't you? A musical prodigy, weren't you?"

"And I still am."

"But why give that up?" Silence. His dark eyes bore into mine. "I see." He wasn't going to answer anything else, I knew. "I've looked over the details of the case, but would you like to tell me your side?" He shook his head. Then he said something I didn't expect.

"I want to see Police Chief Madara."

"Oh? I'm sure I can have that arranged."

"Directly. Alone. Immediately."

"I'll see what I can do. In the mean time, why don't you talk to me? I can tell you right now I'm a lot more understanding than a police chief." He wasn't abused, I knew that much. He left his brother alive, who testified that they were honest and good parents. I had a colleague on the case, who said that even after they pushed Sasuke, the brother, he said they were good parents.

"No. I need to speak with him before this gets more out of hand." He obviously was used to being in control. Understandable, considering Kisame followed him. How old was Itachi? Seventeen? Sixteen?

* * *

Frankly, I was disturbed. The child before me was curled up in the fetal position in the chair, clutching himself and looking at me. There was a different expression on each half of his face. One half was angry and resentful, the other was purely terrified. And each side had a different complexion, one black, one white. "Well then, Zetsu, I'm very glad to see you." His expressions unified into a sneer.

"I'm sure," he said curtly. How easy was this? Disbelieving of my sincerity, probably stemming from a mere lack thereof.

"Oh? Well I can assure you, on good authority, that I am very glad to see you."

"And all your patients," he said. "Isn't that right?"

"Of course. Though, I can say that some of them can get annoying," I leaned forward, mischievous smile on my lips. "But that's between us, all right?" Zetsu shrugged.

"I owe no one my loyalty." If this wasn't an abuse case, I was a duck! He was indebted to no one, and this simple statement was a cry for someone to notice he had no one. How easy!

"Tell me, Zetsu, how does a boy like you get mixed up with a crowd like Akatsuki?"

"Easily." A loophole in my grammar. Striving to be correct, or trying to avoid the question?

"How old were you when you first got into this gang?"

"Nine." Blunt, again, but only this time because it was a sympathetic age, a time when he should've been running around playing soldier or laughing with friends or avoiding girls because they had cooties. Not all the shit he was doing. His eyes scanned around my office, but not in the way Kakuzu had. He wasn't appraising things, or looking for worth, but just taking in every blessed detail. Nothing interested him, and I waited politely for an insight into this poor boy's mind. Finally, he looked out the window. This was too common. I had to wait to see what else interested him. Nonchalantly I shuffled my papers, pretending to write something. Zetsu grinned. "Nicely done," he said coolly. I looked up, patiently, questioningly.

"Do you think so?"

"Oh yes." Zetsu yawned. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. You haven't taken a single note save the word 'abuse'." This was true.

"Very perceptive. Do you feel this is an accurate description?" I asked. Zetsu shrugged.

"Abuse is relative."

"Oh? Would you care to explain?"

"If you can't understand it, why should I explain it?" I was now lower than him? Did this happen when he was able to read my notes? How did he do that, anyway? "And you know, you could've been an artist. Your drawings are exceptional." Lazily he stood, stretching, and yawning. "I'm done."

"All right then. We'll talk later."

* * *

Last one. He had somehow ripped his orange jumpsuit so that it exposed his chest. "I'm surprised they let you get away with that," I said as he sat down. The teenager laughed, his pink eyed crinkling.

"Yeah, I ripped so many they just let it slide. So, what do we do here? You talk to me and dissect my unstable psyche?" I smiled.

"Basically. Have you ever seen a psychiatrist?"

"Nope." He sat lazily in his chair, legs apart, arm slung over the back. "Nice place you got here. Get paid a lot?"

"Reasonably," I replied with a shrug. He started the conversation, did this mean he wanted to be in control? "Now then, you seem like a nice boy. How did you get mixed up in a gang like Akatsuki?"

"I dunno, seemed like a good idea," he replied.

"How old were you?"

"Eleven." I checked my sheet. He was sixteen now.

"And what were your reasons?"

"Seemed like a good idea. We all needed to survive, so we decided to do it together." Hidan shrugged. "Like I said, a good idea."

"What made you resort to crime and drugs, though? Was there something going on at home?"

"Nope. All good on the home front." I couldn't tell if he was lying. I knew how the facts lined up, but the way he said it made me think he had some sort of loophole in mind. I'd have to remember how he said this, to compare it to his later lies.

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope."

"Parents?"

"Nope."

"Aunts? Uncles?"

"Nope."

"Any guardians of any sort?"

"Nope."

"No one at home?"

"Nope."

"Did you live in foster care?"

"Yup. Wow, way to use power of elimination." He stuck his little pink tongue out at me. "Care to do the same about the other aspects of my life?"

"If you insist. Did you get A's?"

"Nope."

"B's?"

"Nope."

"C's?"

"Nope."

"D's?"

"Nope!" Hidan seemed positively delighted.

"F's?"

"Yup. Good job."

"Do you believe this is because of motivation or ability?" He'd obviously gotten this a lot.

"That's the problem with this damn country," he snarled. "You just can't be dumb." Pissed off little thing, wasn't he. I noted this. And he liked stringing me along, making me guess. Controlling thing.

"We are very polite," I conceded. "But there's a difference between dumb and no motivation to apply yourself." I saw him cringe. He'd gotten this spiel since he started school, I'm sure. He didn't want to conform. Typical little rebel. I smiled. Maybe he'd be easier.

"You just have to give in, don't you? Can't stand not trying to put me in my place." I looked up from my notes, surprised.

"Pardon?"

"You have to play the adult here. You have to go ahead and tell me I wasn't trying. You know how hard it is to try when one day some bitch decides she's going to be pious and give you a home for a week, then you're back to where you started?" As messed up as the rest of the foster care kids. But the first bit was tickling my fancy with fervor. I had to be an adult? I hadn't even noticed.

"Can I help it?" I asked him.

"Hey, ain't this session supposed to be about me?" he asked. I quirked an eyebrow.

"I don't ask questions I won't get answers to," I replied.

* * *

I couldn't just go on this. These children were too interesting to be ignored. So I took my lunch on the balcony above where the inmates ate. I quickly noted the group, and watched how they interacted. Pein sat with Konan on his left. Right was reserved for men, left for women in hierarchy. So she was seen as his bitch- excuse my language- rather than his right-hand man. Or rather, they preferred it that way. Zetsu was hunched over and looking sickly on Pein's right, with Tobi next to him. Across from Pein was Itachi, with Kisame beside him. Next to Kisame sat Hidan, and beside Hidan sat Kakuzu. Off to the side, looking sulky, was Deidara. So he was the outcast of the group, the punching bag. I had expected that of Tobi. I watched as they ate, noting neither Deidara nor Zetsu touched a bite. In a group with so many boys, they competed for the alpha male position which Pein occupied. So next up they would compete for next up. It seemed like Zetsu and Deidara couldn't compete physically, as much as perhaps Hidan, Kakuzu, or Kisame. And they were the most feminine, not that either was particularly girly.

I frowned. Perhaps this gang was based on something more. Zetsu and Kakuzu seemed both rather close to the leader, while Kisame was farther away. Tobi was dead center, which was where I had expected Deidara to be. Instead, Deidara, feminine though he was, was off to the side, as if he didn't have much of a place near their leader. This was too interesting.

I got up and went about finding an acquaintance of mine. I finally located him patrolling one of the upper levels. "Iruka!" I called, smiling politely. He nodded and walked over.

"Hello. What brings you here?"

"I have a favour to ask."

"Ask away."

"When do you have night patrol?"

"All this week."

"Good. You know the Akatsuki gang we just brought in?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you see if any of them say anything in their sleep?"

"Uh… sure. Why?"

"Oh… just a hunch. And can you tell me anything about Police Chief Madara?" Iruka laughed.

"He's not just police chief anymore, he's the mayor of Konoha."

"Oh really?" Konoha… somewhere in upstate New York, wasn't it? Not very big, but rather nice. I think I had been there once. "Well then, I suppose it would be a little more difficult to get a hold of him. Thank you very much, Iruka." I turned and left, feeling rather accomplished. I retreated to my office to study their files. I'm rather good at reading between the lines. As soon as I was alone I sighed contentedly, settling into my chair for a night of work.

There's something no good psychiatrist will tell you. But I'm the best, so I can tell you. The first session is always the hardest.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello! How are you all? Good? Even if you aren't, here's something to brighten up your day! I do not own these characters. In this chapter there's a lot of talk, a _lot_ of talk, but I try to make it interesting. There's a lot of talk in later chapters, and very, very little action. I'm sorry. If you don't like talky stories, just continue on and find something else.

Anyway, this is basically a lot of psychological analysis, so hopefully it'll be somewhat insightful and entertaining. Please enjoy, and review please!

* * *

First up I had Deidara's file. He seemed easy to crack. Fourteen, orphan, ran away from home, blah, blah, blah. On drugs by eight. Smoking cigarettes, pot, crack, alcohol, nothing out of the norm. He didn't seem particularly dependent on anything or anyone, even his group. If I could only find what was supporting him and shift his weight, I could have him. I had never yet met a self-supported criminal of his age.

But as I was looking over files, one caught my eye. It was Zetsu's, and very, very light. I opened it and found a green post-it note: **Not available**. I furrowed my brow, looking it over. This was bull shit. How could they have nothing on a kid with green hair and two skin colors? I'd have to speak to someone about this. I needed to know about this sick little child! I sighed and checked the clock. Too late for anyone to care. I sighed, placing the folder inside my desk and locking it. At least it gave me somewhere to start. I then picked up Tobi's file. The same note! How could there be no information- oh yes, the amnesia victim going by a different name. No one knew his real name. Right. I then picked up Itachi's.

Murderer at age thirteen, and now sixteen. Three years since the murder, and he seemed as cold as if it had been yesterday. Had it hurt? Did he mean to? Was it an impulse, after which he ran? I read over the papers. The gun he used needed to be reloaded after his first shot. He knew. I yawned, wishing I had brought some coffee. Did it hurt him? Was he still crying at night because it hurt? Some may be wondering right now 'Does that boy even hurt?' and I reply 'Yes. Everyone does. Now be quiet, I have work'. It's true that everyone hurts. There's no way someone can rid themselves of their emotions, though they may burry them deep inside. How close was Itachi's hurt? Would getting Madara on the scene help? It would definitely do something. I'd ponder him later.

I checked Hidan's file. True to his word, his grades had been terrible. He had been in a home and then run away. No guardian ever. There had been foster parents who sent him back immediately, saying they were disgusted. Very interesting. That's got to hurt a little guy's self-esteem. I knew how boys could be. They showed they cared in the most bizarre ways. Had he been wanting to please them? Had he been only overjoyed to have someone? Of course. So he was hurt, and seemed like the sort of person to react angrily to such feelings. Being angry was easy for a kid like that, after all, there are a lot of people and things to get angry at. So obviously he had run away. This was an easy story to piece together, if being sent back hadn't occurred two years prior to his running away. I set this file aside.

Kakuzu was interesting. He had always stolen, but as he got older he got caught less and less. But he only stole the good things, nothing cheap. He also broke into a few cash registers. This was odd. Did he have an attraction to worth? Very odd.

Pein and Konan had similar records. They were orphans, and had been taken in by a man named Jiraiya. It didn't say what happened to him. After some point they got involved in drugs and illegal things and developed followers. They ran away on the very night they were accused of murder. So maybe she wasn't his thing. Maybe she did have more power. Perhaps he was left-handed. I'll deal with that later. First up on my list was Deidara.

* * *

"Hello Kakuzu, very glad to see you," I said. "Have a seat." Kakuzu stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his burly chest. I waited politely to see what he did for a moment, never once changing my expression. "How has your week been?" I asked. Kakuzu said nor did anything. "Well, mine has been pretty good. A lot of interesting things happened. I hope you're not suffering here, are you?" Kakuzu stepped forward, closing the door behind himself.

"Suffering is relative," he replied coolly. He wasn't a particularly addicted drug user, so he must be acclimatizing to a drugless, but safe, environment.

"Would you consider this suffering?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On how this compares with my past, now isn't that right?" Kakuzu smirked. It wasn't very often I got a patient so in tune with what I was doing.

"And how does this compare?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. You've got my file, aren't you people supposed to read between the lines?"

"I'd rather hear it from you, though. Paper can say what happened. You can say how it made you feel." Neglect, I was willing to bet. Perhaps physical abuse, but on the slighter end. A few slaps around if he was a bother. He liked certainties, and was materialistic.

"Why would I tell you what I've never told a single other living creature?" he asked lazily.

"Because I know more than other people. I'm able to help. I know it's hard, opening up to a stranger, but know that it's my job to be opened up to. It's my job to take care of you, and help, no matter the problem."

"You can't fix everything," he pointed out.

"It's my job to try, and do the absolute best." I refrained from saying 'my absolute best'. It left no room for him to doubt my abilities.

"You're going to have to do better than that," he said in a disapproving tone. "Like I've said, many people try to get in my head. What makes you think you can?"

"I'm not going anywhere," I informed him, though if he had seen my notes, he would've noted I already had my hands plunged deep into his psyche. "I'm staying right here. No one can make you say anything. For you to be helped, I'm going to need your cooperation." Kakuzu yawned.

"I can see this is getting us nowhere. You refuse to cooperate. I can tell you're hiding something you don't want to talk about. Yeah, sure. I'm done here."

* * *

"Hello?" I answered the phone.

"Hello, I'm Uchiha Madara, the mayor of-"

"Yes yes, I know."

"Well you're to the point."

"Listen, you know who I am, right?"

"Right."

"I have a patient here, Uchiha Itachi, who says he needs to speak with you. Now, I told I'm I'd do what I could, so I'm willing to bargain for an hour or so of your time."

"Itachi, you said?"

"Uchiha Itachi, that's correct."

"Oh! The fiend! I shall be over immediately!" I sighed, lazily twirling my pen between my fingers.

"There's no need to cover up. I really could care less."

"What?"

"You have some business with this child, don't you? Fine. I really don't care. But meet with him, it may help my job." There was a long silence.

"I'll be there tomorrow, around noon, all right?"

"I'll see if he's available."

"All right then."

"All right." A pause. "Well, I have more patients. See you tomorrow." Of course Itachi would be available. And, if I played my cards right, so would I.

* * *

"Why hello Tobi, come on in," I said. Tobi did just that, dumb grin plastered over his face.

"Hi!"

"How are you? Everything going all right?"

"Yup! All good!" I wrote down a exclamation point. It was how he talked, it seemed.

"Really? What's good?" I asked.

"I am. Tobi is a good boy." I suddenly dawned on me that he was quoting someone. Someone had said this to him.

"Yes, I agree. You are a good boy. Who else thinks so?" It sounded dirty to me. Very dirty. Who would have a need to say that? If he was a girl, it would be different. Girls were often told they were good girls by parents or teachers. But boys rarely to never got the 'good boy' treatment. That was something for dogs.

"Zetsu-sempai." They were having sex. Well, no. Not even probably.

"How often does Zetsu tell you this?"

"Whenever I ask." I would say it, too, if it got him to shut up. I doubted that hellish child I had seen last week would actually say something like that.

"What about your other Sempai? What about Deidara?"

"Deidara doesn't like Tobi. But Tobi is a good boy and is very nice to him!" Was he looking for vindication of this?

"I'm sure you are." The best thing was to reassure him. How insecure could he be? Oh, let's take a stab. I'd say, given his tendency to look for reassurance, façade of happiness, he was one of the more insecure people in this world. "Why do you like Deidara?"

"He's so artistic," Tobi replied dreamily. "And pretty. His hair is gorgeous. And he's smart. Not book smart, but street smart. He knows everything." Tobi had a wistful expression on his face, which suddenly collapsed and he rocketed back to reality. "But Zetsu-sempai is smart too!" he assured me. "And book smart. And people smart. That makes him smarter than Deidara-sempai, right?" I shrugged.

"Depends what your values are." This was sort of rude of me, seeing as he was confused as to where his loyalty (fidelity? Oh Lord, I need a good scolding) lay. Tobi looked at me suspiciously, but it was more internal. Did he hear me correctly? Was he over thinking things? Oh yes, I could hear it now. I needed coffee. "These two boys are your best friends, would you say?"

"Oh yes," he said, glad he didn't have to pick. Maybe he was just scared of decisions.

"And you love them?" He went rigid and looked at me, now fully suspicious. Whoops. Better put that hot poker down. "As family, seeing as you have none." Tobi brightened and nodded.

"Yup! Deidara-sempai is like an older brother!"

"And what about Zetsu?"

"He's… a little older. A little more mature. But I still like him. He's just the oldest brother." Oh, he was trying to convince himself he liked his little Zetsu-sempai. Well, from what I could tell, Zetsu was off his rocker, so it's not as if he would notice much.

"Well, it seems our time is up. I really enjoyed talking to you, Tobi."

"Same here! See you next week!" Tobi stood up and bowed, before skipping off. Skipping? Either childish or gender confused. Maybe both. That would be interesting. Next up: Konan.

* * *

She eyed me with cool resolve. "Hello Konan. You're looking more rested." No reaction. "Well then, I understand you're quite good friends with Nagato." A faint smirk graced her lips.

"You'd believe that, wouldn't you?" she said. Her voice was low, and that of a woman. She was poised, graceful, matured; something you'd expect her to be in ten years on serious medication.

"Did I misunderstand something?"

"No, of course not." Silence. She regarded me politely, mirroring my expression. Oh. She was good.

"Well, what are your motives for wanting him to be misled about your relationship?" There was no register of shock in her countenance. Perfect. Just a cry for understanding, this one.

"It's a long story," she said.

"I've got time." She smirked.

"Well then."

Halfway through her thorough summary of Great Expectations, I stopped her, told her I believed they were serving spaghetti today, and sent her out. Little punk.

* * *

"Well?" I snapped as Iruka entered my office.

"Not much," he said. "Just 'Sasori-Danna'." I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" Danna. Good boy. This was all very dirty. Especially in a gang of nubile-

"Yes, Deidara. Kept moaning, crying, and screaming. It was the only sensible thing I heard, before some guard shut him up." I winced.

"All week?"

"Yup. Every night."

"Very good." I looked up at the horrified expression on my coworker's face. "I meant I'll be able to help. That's good." He nodded slowly. I always felt the man felt a bit distant and awkward around me.

* * *

Deidara slunk in. He wasn't looking as I had expected. He was a heavy user, which meant he should be going through terrible withdrawal. No sign. He just looked a bit sulky today. "Hello, Deidara," I said, hoping I came off kind.

"Un," he mumbled.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked.

"Un."

"How are you acclimating?" Deidara furrowed his brow and stared at me. "Are you adjusting well?"

"No, un."

"Why?"

"I'd rather not be here."

"Well, I can sympathize." I paused. "Can you answer a little question for me?"

"Hmm."

"Who is Sasori?" Deidara's entire body went stiff, and he looked at me with a certain amount of horror, bewilderment, and anger, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell over. I leapt to my feet, catching him before he hit the ground, and laying him down safely. I then stuck my head out of the office and hailed a passing guard.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I've been absent. I admit. But, no joke, I was kidnapped. By homework. I plan on pressing charges. And with all the research I've been putting into the American legal system, that can happen! XD All right, I'd like you all to meet someone very important. His name is Cliche P. Device (the P stands for Plot). I know I introduced him at the end of last chapter, under the false identity of Mr. Cliff Hanger. Now, he is going by his full name: Mr. Blatant Psychological Of Characters By Other Characters That Reveals The Plot. Enjoy, and review please!

-WhirledPeace

* * *

Pein was glaring. I mean, as far as glares went, I'd had my share, but this one almost took the cake. "I can tell you're mad," I said nonchalantly.

"Doesn't take a genius."

"May I ask what's troubling you?"

"You are," he said, voice shaking with rage. "You and your stupid notes and your stupid, fucked up questions! Why do you have to pry, huh?" I was taken aback.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-" he growled, standing up to look down at me, "that you and your fucked up ways are pissing me off!"

"And why is that?"

"Because of what you did to Deidara," he growled.

"What did I do?" I asked.

"You did something stupid. Don't you dare try and pry into him again."

"Why? That's my-"

"It's not your job to give teenagers mental breakdowns. You're who they go to after that." I nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll tell you who Sasori was, so long as you don't mention him again," he said. "We've all gotten used to it, so you can too. But you have to swear."

"All right. I promise not to mention him to Deidara-"

"-or ever-"

"-or ever, again."

"Good." Pein sat down. "He was one of our gang. Quiet. Kept to himself. But when Deidara came along, he opened up. He started talking, even _smiling_. Deidara calmed down a lot, too. He was really off his rocker, kind of like he is now, before that. Really insane. But he was calm, could hold a decent conversation, you know?" Pein sighed. "He's dead now. Got shot in the back. We don't know if he suffered long, but we told Deidara it was painless. He's young, you understand. He went mad, though. Started throwing things, wouldn't talk to anyone, hit me a couple of times. That kid can pack a punch." Pein sighed. "We try to do all we can, but he just gets worse." The boy licked his lips. "You understand, right?"

"You keep saying that," I said. "What am I supposed to understand?"

"Them. Us. Me." This was the most sincere plea I had ever heard.

"I understand."

"Thank you."

* * *

Kisame. Not much. No, really, not much. Me. I'm supposed to believe it. Supposed to take his word. But I know the ways to press. Kisame. Smarter than he looks. Like he's going to give in. Me. Asking again. In subtle ways. But he knows better. Kisame. Still smarter than he looks. Me. Give up. Wave a white flag. how had he won? I go on. I press other places. Kisame. Solid. No sore spots. No weaknesses. But solidly stupid. Me. Trying as hard as I can. Won't give up this time. Finally mention Itachi. Finally I get a foothold. Kisame. On the defense, now. The only point on which he'll elaborate; make clear. The only the only point he seems able to talk about. Maybe he'll open up. Kisame. Still a dick. Still an ass. Still keeping silent. Still making me wonder.

He can leave now. I have what I need.

* * *

After that headache, I found myself face to face with the source: Itachi. Why couldn't his big blue thing just admit feelings, damnit? "I talked to Madara. He'll be here tomorrow." Itachi nodded. "So, what do you want to see him for?"

"I have my reasons." Same as Pein. Wannabe. I actually found I liked their little leader.

"Care to talk about it?"

"No."

"Well then, I find no choice but to start from the beginning. How would you describe your childhood?" Itachi stood up and walked over to my desk, shoving all the papers and things off in a fit of fury.

"Get me Madara."

* * *

All right. Kakuzu was materialistic. Tobi was a childish amnesiac with attachment issues. Konan was the quiet one. Deidara was suicidal and rather off his rocker. Pein was their leader. Kisame was the dumb follower, with a hint of something I couldn't put my finger on. Itachi was the mysterious one, with his secrets and dignity. But this one didn't fit in. Zetsu was curled up in his chair again, head resting on his knees. He was looking thinner and had dark bags under his eyes. His hair had grown, and was hanging in his face. "I'm very glad to see you, Zetsu," I said, smiling. No reaction. "How have you been?" His expressions were unified into one of boredom. "How has your week been?" I asked.

"Well, until today."

"Hmm?"

"More specifically, a few hours ago. Very well until then."

"What made it good?" Oh, caught him! He wanted me to know what made him sad.

"The fact Deidara hadn't killed himself yet," he replied smoothly. Damn. Who was this Zetsu? "The fact Deidara was eating somewhat. The fact he hadn't beat the shit out of anyone. The fact he was alive. You've taken that one away." He was looking for excuses. And I was grasping at straws.

"Do you care about Deidara?"

"Do you?"

"Of course. I care about all my patients."

"I don't appreciate being lied to."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you admitted yourself that some of them get annoying."

"That doesn't mean I don't care about them. You care about your friends, but they sometimes get annoying, right?" Zetsu shook his head.

"Annoyance is an internal problem. If someone you care about is annoying you, you've got the problem."

"Really?" His self-esteem just shot down.

"Yes." He reassured me. Going with his personality, he could've ignored me or given me an 'aren't you dumb' look. "I'm done here."

"All right. We'll talk later."

* * *

"Jashin! Didn't you hear me the first fucking time, heathen?"

"Could you spell that?"

"Kanji for wicked and heart." I wrote this out.

"I see. And what does this mean?"

"It's my god! Jashin!"

"And who was poking fun?"

"Everyone! Especially that fucker Kakuzu!"

"Really? Who is the bigger problem?"

"Everyone fucking else!" Swearing. Wanting to act tough. Insecure? Maybe. "They give me shit and then I have to go and beat the shit out of them!" That made perfect sense.

"Of course. But aren't there other ways to challenge them?" Hidan gave a short, sharp laugh.

"Of course not. I've tried that. No one ever listens, especially in a place like here. Except…" I waited. This was it. He eyed me suspiciously and stopped dead. I almost sighed.

"For?" I urged gently.

"None of your damn business."

"Oh, well that's a shame. I was rather hoping you'd like to talk about Jashin." Embodiment of his pure self? I'd read about that one somewhere, where a person made up a god to be their ideal self, with their ideal ethics and morals. Or was that just all religions?

"You don't want to hear about it." Stop acting coy and give me the evidence of your issues! We all have them, just spit it out, damnit!

"Oh, really, I'm quite interested. I'm sorry, I must be uncultured, but I haven't heard much about it." Hidan gave that same laugh. He was good at spouting out these noises of emotion.

"Well, not surprising."

"Oh? Are his followers very few?"

"Quite."

"Do continue."

"Me. Just me."

"No one else?"

"Nope." Casual. Taking pleasure in the fact, or brushing off deeper feelings?

"Were there ever others?"

"Well yeah, obviously. I don't just randomly come up with my religion, like everyone thinks."

"Who?"

"Well, wouldn't you like to know, fuckface? I'm done here."

* * *

Madara stood, Itachi sitting across the metal table from him. "You said," Itachi said coldly. "You said and you promised."

"I know, Itachi. But I expected that getting you out of there once meant you wouldn't get caught again. I'm just glad your psychiatrist called me." Madara sighed. "Here's the plan. You listening?" Itachi nodded. "I pardon you. I find you not guilty. After I interrogate you for a few hours, I find that you only ran because the killer was after you. I then say you're free to go, and you go live an honest life." Itachi nodded.

"Exactly what I would have done had you not told me to murder my parents."

"Shh!" Madara cried.

"Please, if you actually thought they knew what we were saying you wouldn't have been mouthing off." Madara sighed, sitting on the table.

"Are they treating you well?" Madara asked.

"No. No one ever has. How… how is… my… brother?"

"He's well. Hell-bent on killing you, though." Itachi looked down sadly.

"Oh."

"And I expect with the right cajoling he'll come around to our side."

"Yeah."

"And I also assume you'll be informing on Akatsuki, am I right? We haven't got much, but I know they've done worse." Itachi's eyes widened.

"You can't honestly expect I'll do that!" he cried. "They… they're my family." Madara laughed coldly.

"Your family is dead, Itachi, except for a brother who hates you. Akatsuki is a criminal gang who needs to be brought down. If I can get them for the murder of Sasori-"

"No!" Itachi cried, leaping to his feet. "They didn't murder him!"

"How did he die?"

"Drive by shooting that was never investigated."

"Well then, they as good as did it."

"They didn't! I'll testify!"

"No you won't," Madara growled. "And that Zetsu, assaulting a teacher? I can put him away pretty easily." Itachi's face resembled a fish as he sank back into his chair.

"No he didn't! The teacher was- was- don't you understand?"

"The teacher won't admit to anything, and Zetsu would just claim those things to get out of jail time. I could try him as an adult, just for-"

"No! Zetsu was protecting himself!" Madara shrugged.

"We'll see. As for Kakuzu, I'm not sure if we can get him for prank calling a government organization-"

"What are you talking about?" shrieked Itachi.

"But all that stealing from his parents, I'm sure we could send him for some good, hard prison time."

"He was trying to live! He was only buying food!"

"So? Stealing is stealing. That brings me to Konan…" Itachi looked horrified.

"What? What could she have possibly done wrong?"

"Assaulting her guardian. Imagine, taking in three orphans, and then being battered by them? How sad."

"Three?"

"Oh, right. Nagato. Murder." Madara grinned evilly. "I expect you'll keep your mouth shut, all right? Or else your ass is dead." Madara gave a nod and left the room. Itachi sank onto the table, holding his head in his hands. I was oh so glad I had planted that little video camera.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hello all! I'm trying to get a bit of action in here, and I'm going to start busting up some laws. I see Sai as a rule follower, but not always. I've also turned this into an original story, in which I like the first person story teller much better. XD I'm also trying to find a copy of "The Good Son", which is not on youtube. My nana doesn't want to give out her credit card to Netflix, so now I'm sort of scrambling. Meh. So just as a precaution, there may be something in here that reflects that. Enjoy!

-WhirledPeace

* * *

Itachi was moved to a nicer cell, more like a room than anything else. The day after this arrangement, I decided to take a peek at them at lunch. They were talking in hushed voices and suddenly, with a loud bang, Itachi was knocked flat, chair and all, by Pein. The ginger haired boy was on top of the Uchiha, throwing punch after punch, screaming obscenities. The guards were rushing over, but Kisame was quicker, grabbing Pein and throwing him off of Itachi. Pein launched himself back at Itachi, but Kisame grabbed him round the middle and threw him against the table. The guards soon tackled Kisame and Pein, and one even grabbed Itachi, dragging them all apart. Pein was red in the face, struggling against his captor. Zetsu slowly walked over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder, saying something that made the leader stop his struggling and back down. Kisame was being helped to his feet by Kakuzu, but no one was helping Itachi.

I smirked. I would be seeing Mr. Pein presently. But to my confusion, I watched as Itachi dragged himself up, eye already bruising, slinking up to Kisame on the fringes of the group. I read his lips. "Kisame." He gently touched the boy's arm, who whirled and yanked his arm away, glaring. He shouted loud enough for even me to hear.

"Get away from me before I hit you harder than Pein!" Interesting. What a hurt little child. He was so confused. Seeing as he was involved with the fight, I'd better see him as well.

* * *

"So, Pein, what provoked that fight?" I asked.

"The little shit turned us in," Pein growled. "He talked to a police chief, and now he's sleeping somewhere else, and he's going to get out of it. Out of all of it." Pein was still looking angry.

"Tell me everything."

"Everything?"

"All you feel you need to tell me."

"Itachi talked to a police chief, and turned us in. I swear he did. He told us he didn't tell him anything, but I know he did. He had to."

"So he's informed on you?"

"Yes! But it's not true!" Pein was glaring.

"What isn't true?"

"I didn't kill him!" Pein cried. "I didn't kill Yahiko!" He was looking at me with wide, scared eyes.

"Who's Yahiko?"

"He was my brother," Pein said slowly, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Anything you say here can't be used against in in the court of law. A confession in here doesn't count for anything."

"Are you sure?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die. If you tell me anything, it's between us and no one else."

"A promise isn't good enough."

"What would I have to do?"

"Tell me you'd give your life. This is a life or death matter. Tell me you'd give your life."

"I'll give my life if I gave out information." Pein seemed satisfied.

"Konan, Yahiko and I were all orphans. But we banded together, and made a vow never to be split up. And it was easy, considering nobody wanted us. But finally a man came along who said he'd take us in. All three of us. We were about… eight, nine or so. So he took us home, and it was all fine for a month or so, until the social workers stopped stopping by." Pein took a deep breath. He had never told anyone before. "He… he started beating us. It started out as a few smacks on the head, and he said it was normal, it was part of growing up. It got worse, but he reminded us he took us in, and he was making us into adults. It got so that we were hiding bruises every day, trying our best to keep up pretenses." Pein took a deep breath, and I didn't push him. He was allowed to tell me as much as he felt comfortable. "Konan… one day, he went too far. She couldn't get up, and she was bleeding. He used his _belt_." Pein was looking at me seriously, wanting me to understand. "His _belt_. It cut her so bad, and he was yelling and screaming, and at some point she just stopped moving. I thought she was dead. I was so scared, but I couldn't do anything." Pein took a shaking breath, lips trembling.

"Yahiko wasn't there, and I just sat there. When we told him, he got so mad. Too mad. When we got home he ran at Jiraiya, and tried to hit him. Jiraiya got angry… and there was so much blood…" Pein was looking pale, his hands shaking, lips stammering. "Konan tried to stop Jiraiya, she really did, but he got me good in the head, and I blacked out. When I woke up, Jiraiya was yelling and hitting Konan, and Yahiko wasn't moving, and- and-" Pein hung his head, hands covering his face. "I had to save her. I got up to protect her, I had to help her, but she kicked him in the stomach. He stumbled back, and glared at her. He… he said… that…" Pein stopped suddenly, sucking in a choking breath. I leaned forward and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn't shy away.

"You can tell me whatever you are comfortable," I said. Pein nodded, still not looking up.

"He said we were going to pay. He said he had taken us in, he had given everything he could to us, and he had done everything for us, raised us when no one else had. We were going to pay. He… he called the police, and we ran."

"He called the _police_?" I asked in shock. After beating one of his charges to death, and the other two to near death, he called the police? He must've had something, or was completely mad. So they ran, making them look guilty.

"Y-yes. W-well, I don't know, but no one came after us. We just… stayed homeless. We pretended we had a home, stayed late after school, and stole to survive." It hit me. Pein was Konan's right-hand man!

"How old were you?"

"Twelve. We found Zetsu, and were just so glad to know someone who had been through something similar to us, we just banded together." Zetsu was fourteen? Was this right?

"How old was Zetsu?"

"Nine, maybe younger. He just looks younger than he is."

"I see. Do you feel abandoned at all?"

"Not really. I just feel sick." I smiled sadly.

"All right. Do you want to go?"

"Yes please."

"All right. We'll talk later, all right?" Pein nodded.

* * *

"Oh, hello Ino," I said, answering the phone. "How are you?"

"Fine, actually."

"Did you get my message?"

"Yeah, actually, that's why I'm calling. It was really weird, in the middle of the night, so I'd just like to hear what you had to say." My throat closed up.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I really couldn't understand. What was it you wanted to say?" I took a deep breath, but my tongue betrayed me.

"Just wanted to chat. I've been stressed lately."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Kids just getting to me."

"Well, we can have coffee or something."

"Sure."

"Well, if that's all-"

"Yes, I have patients. Goodbye."

"Bye." I sighed.

* * *

"So, I saw your fight today," I said. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," Kisame muttered.

"Why did Pein attack Itachi?"

"You call him Pein too?" Kisame asked.

"He asked me to." We made eye contact, and he understood I wasn't a bad person.

"Pein was worried that Itachi was… talking."

"About what?"

"About us. Akatsuki, I mean." The last part was added hurriedly. I almost smiled.

"Was Itachi doing that?"

"I… I don't know. I think."

"Then why defend him?"

"I don't know!" Kisame cried. I could see it. He was lost and hurting, and betrayed. I lay a hand on his shoulder, feeling empathy. He didn't have to say it.

"You don't have to say some things," I said. "You don't have to say some emotions, or feelings. Some are just that way. You don't have to tell me." He looked up, and I could see he was just scared. After all, he was just a child. He pushed me away.

"I don't need you and all your shit! You made Deidara faint!" I nodded.

"I misunderstood the situation. Pein cleared everything up. But you want to know my suggestion?" Kisame grunted. "Give things time."

"Time? I'm on trial in two weeks for a crime I never committed! I never even heard about it!" He was breathing hard.

"And what crime is this?"

"Murder." I was shocked, but didn't show it.

"What murder?"

"S-Sasori's."

"What happened?"

"I-it's none of your business!" Kisame cried, slapping me away. I backed off.

"Anything you say in this room is between us. I can't use any of it against you." Kisame glared.

"Sure. Police say anything to get you to fuck yourself." He stood up, glaring down at me. "I'm done here."

"All right. We'll talk next week, okay?"

* * *

"So, Kakuzu, what does this look like?" I was so desperate, I was now using ink blots. Kakuzu turned his nose up at it.

"I'm not going to give in to your childish antics," he retorted.

"Then let's go back to your childhood. You grew up with your father, right?" Kakuzu nodded. "How would you describe your relationship?"

"Servile."

"And what made it that way?"

"What do you think?" Abuse? Hmm. I didn't really expect that.

"Did he leave you on your own?"

"I wish." Kakuzu's eyes were hard and cold. How much more would I get from this rock?

"What did he do to you?"

"Many things."

"What things?" Kakuzu wasn't going to say anything. "I will only be able to help you if you tell me. There is no way I could use this information to hurt you." For some reason or another, this worked.

"He beat me." I nodded.

"How often?"

"Twice, three times a day."

"With his hand?"

"No. Bridge cable. Sometimes a baseball bat." I was shocked, but didn't let the feeling get to my expression.

"He beat you with bridge cable and a baseball bat twice to three times a day?" I asked, just to get a clear picture. Kakuzu nodded. "You can talk to me." How long had he kept that secret? How long had he kept this silence.

"You don't believe me." I was shocked. Where had that come from? "I called people, you know. I called an abuse hotline twice, and they thought I was joking. Twice. And then I called 9-11. I told them what he did to me, and I was almost even passed out, and they yelled at me for prank calling them, and said it was illegal. Of course, once they hung up, I passed out." Kakuzu was glaring now. "You people are all the same. You all think I'm a fucking liar. What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to just keep up 'hope'? Huh?" I looked at him. What the hell _was _he supposed to do?

"In a situation like this… I'd say any course of action you took would be the best. What did you do?"

"I ran away," he said simply.

"Where did you live?"

"With my group. My friends."

"Where?"

"On the streets, where else? And you want to know what? No one even bothered looking for me. She didn't even call the police." Kakuzu's face was drawn tightly, his posture stiff. I didn't know how much more I could get out of him.

"Your father… what was his name?" Kakuzu stared at me stonily. "I can't use any information you give me against you in the court of law," I reminded him.

"Orochimaru. Taki Orochimaru."

"Thank you."

* * *

"Taki… Taki… Ah!" I triumphantly found a Taki, Orochimaru. His residence wasn't listed. Pity. Checking to make sure my number was restricted, I dialed the number listed. And he picked up the phone.

"Yes?" came his slithering voice. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"Hello, I'm calling from the Konoha police department."

"Please don't bother me. I've been through enough with my son."

"We think there may be a new development in the case, though."

"New development? You found his body in a plastic bag in the river! For me, it's case closed." I stopped dead.

"Could you describe your son? We've found some of his things along the bottom of the river."

"I can't remember. He was dark, dark hair, green eyes- I already gave you a description!"

"What sorts of things did he carry with him?"

"Nothing, he had his school things at home."

"I see. No jewelry?"

"What kind of a parent do you think I am? You think I could raise someone-"

"Calm down, sir. Would he be carrying a girl's bracelet from school? Did he have any female friends?"

"I… who are you? I already spoke with the police chief about this! I-"

"Thank you, sir, that's all we needed. I was calling on the police chief's behalf, anyway. Thank you." And I hung up. A body? What- Iruka suddenly walked into my office. "Is Taki Kakuzu breathing and living?" I asked him. He nodded, slowly.

"Um… yes, I believe so. Why?"

"Oh, no reason. What do you want?"

"Your next patient… um, that is, Tobi… I thought he might already be here, but seeing as he isn't…"

"Get out of here and go find him!" I cried, leaping to my feet, pushing Iruka out of the room. I locked the door, as I was supposed to. Tobi was such a compliant little boy, why would he want to do this? Where would he go?


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry, I've been very busy. With summer school, I still hope to update! (plus get a job. *sigh*.) Please forgive me and review please! :D

-WP

* * *

They found him outside of a certain door, trying to peep in. It was Zetsu's room. When found, he said he wanted to be with his Zu-Zu -Sempai, and if he caused trouble he was very, very sorry. They brought him to me, obviously.  
"So, Tobi, I understand you broke the rules," I said. "What was going on?" Tobi hung his head. "Take all your time in telling me."  
"I wanted to see Zetsu," he said.  
"Why?" I asked, hoping my voice came off more inquiring than surprised.  
"Because I don't see him enough. No one lets me see him." Attachment? Separation anxiety? That was to be expected.  
"Why do you want to see him?"  
"He always makes things better."  
"Does he? How?"  
"He just… says the right things, you know? He always makes me feel better." Either Tobi got consolation from Zetsu's presence, or it seemed that Zetsu might actually be trying to please him. This might call for an extra meeting…

* * *

"Group therapy?" Iruka asked with a raised eyebrow. I nodded.  
"Yes. I would be able to get more done with both of them in the same room." Iruka sighed.  
"I'll have to run it by Ibiki."  
"You do that." I knew I could win on that ground. Soon, I would have Tobi and Zetsu in the same room.

* * *

"So, how are you two today?" Tobi sat politely, but Zetsu had curled himself up in his chair. "I saw you just yesterday, Tobi. How about you, Zetsu? How would you describe your mood?" Zetsu's hazy eyes regarded me cloudily. I would've thought he was high, but there was no way for him to get drugs. "Comparatively, of course, to how things have been." No reaction. "Well then. How about you, Tobi?"  
"Tobi is good!" Zetsu's eyes immediately focused on him. I didn't think it possible, but something got Zetsu's attention. "How about you?" I was tickled pink at the question.  
"Oh, I'm all right." Zetsu's eyes hadn't left Tobi. "So, Zetsu, could you describe your week in three or less words?" Zetsu didn't even show he had heard me, his eyes were scrutinizing Tobi. "I understand you two had an episode. Zetsu, did you know Tobi was outside your door?" Zetsu didn't budge. "Tobi, did you want Zetsu to know you were there?" Tobi nodded.  
"Yup! That would-" Before I could even blink Zetsu had leapt to his feet, glowering down at Tobi.  
"Shut your mouth, Tobi," he growled. This was certainly fun. Was Tobi going somewhere forbidden? Taboo? Zetsu rounded on me. "And as for you, you can stop with your damn prying. No one's going to benefit from it." I smiled.  
"I beg to differ. You just talk to your leader."  
"You think she has a plan?" Zetsu cried. I almost allowed my mouth to fall open. She? "You think anyone is telling anyone what's going on? You think opening up the past is going to help us in the future? There's a reason some bodies remain buried!"  
"Why listen to anyone else but yourself? Do you think this is going to help?" Zetsu was inching towards Tobi now. He was eyeing me, though. He had his hand on the boy's shoulder, and was gripping it fiercely. Those nails! Tobi flinched slightly, but didn't say anything. What was going through Zetsu's mind? What was that poor, ill child thinking?  
"Who do you think I'm listening to?" his voice was calm, and somewhat deeper. "Just keep your nose out of my damn business, got it?" His eyes were wide, his fingers turning a sickly white at the knuckles, his nails digging painfully into Tobi's shoulder. 'That all', I said to myself, and he fainted backwards. Tobi caught him, looking horrified.  
"What- what did you do?"  
"Nothing. Here, lay him down, make sure he can breathe." Tobi did as I told him. Too compliant. Not an abuse victim? "He hasn't been eating, has he? How many meals has he missed?" I looked sharply at Tobi, who shrugged. "Tell me, I know you've been keeping track. In your head, burning the number against your mind. Now tell me." Tobi licked his lips.  
"He hasn't eaten in five days. At least, that's what I've been able to tell…"  
"Five days? Damn." I looked over Zetsu's body. He was calm, somehow, unconscious. I hoped I could bring that same calm to his waking life. "That's why you wanted to see him. You're adorable, you know? Just tell me next time he does something stupid like this, all right?" I grinned and ruffled his hair. "Suppose we'd better call someone."  
I had Iruka in there soon, and he was bent over Zetsu, doing all those special things they train you to. Suddenly, Zetsu gasped and his eyes shot open.  
"Get off me!" he screamed, eyes not quite focused. Iruka gripped his upper arm.  
"Calm down-"  
"Get off me! Don't touch me! Get off me!" Zetsu screamed, struggling violently.  
"Let go of him, Iruka," I said slowly. That didn't fit in. How would sexual abuse fit the picture? Iruka let go of Zetsu who kicked himself away, rushing over to the opposite corner and huddling against the wall, eyes terrified and confused.  
"It's all right, Zetsu-" I started.  
"Don't say that!"  
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so, so sorry." Tobi was looking confused and hurt.  
"Zetsu-sempai…" he said quietly. Zetsu's eyes focused and snapped instantly to Tobi. "Zetsu-sempai, everything's all right." Zetsu's harsh breathing slowed. Tobi took a step forward, and then another, and then he had opened his arms. Zetsu, sighing, or panting, I couldn't tell, let Tobi hug him. And then it was all over, and both were walking towards me. I wanted to cry out in delight and call Tobi a good boy, but that wouldn't be appropriate. Instead, I looked to Iruka.  
"Thank you for your professional help," I said curtly. Tobi grinned. "Well? Are you two ready to go back, or is there something you would still like to discuss?"  
"We're ready to leave," Tobi said. Now he was taking charge? Did he know something I didn't? Let's do something stupid.  
"How about you, Zetsu?" Zetsu grunted, glaring at me. "All right then." I smiled at Tobi. "I guess you can leave."

* * *

"What the hell are you doing to those kids?" Iruka growled, stepping back in my office.  
"What?"  
"Two have already fainted!"  
"Deidara had a special psychiatric state I hadn't taken into consideration, and as you witnessed, Zetsu was just hungry," I replied calmly.  
"I really don't think this is a good idea at all. Whatever you're doing, I suggest you stop it." Unfortunately for Iruka, my mind was already on a different track.  
"Did you see the way he screamed? Did you hear what he said? It was almost too obvious. Not that he was hiding those core, raw reactions." I clenched my fist in near-victory. "He's a sexual abuse victim. Couldn't you tell?" Iruka was staring at me as if I'd sprouted another head. "I can get him. What was that teacher's name? What did he look like?" I wasn't talking to anyone now. Iruka was convinced I had finally gone off the deep end. But I had to get the dirt on the teacher.  
"How do you know it was a teacher?" Iruka asked.  
"This isn't a one-time thing, Iruka. This is repeated, for over a year. See, the year is the marker in abuse like this. They have to remember themselves at a different age to remember the beginning. Not that they dwell on that. They're usually up there." I gestured lamely at the sky. "You know. Flying."  
"You're mad," Iruka said. I glared at him. He didn't get it. He was one of those who had always been good, gotten good grades, and wanted to help the poor little children. I used to be one of them.  
"Not yet," I told him curtly. "I suppose Ibiki wants to see me?" Iruka nodded. "Good. I'll go get my lashing and be done, then."

* * *

"What the hell is going on?" I flinched. Only Ibiki could make me feel like that little delinquent I used to be. "You're dealing with criminals for what? Two weeks? And now they've all gone more psycho!" I winced.  
"No, sir, actually, they've gotten a lot better. See, I have to delve into their hidden, subconscious psyche. It usually isn't pretty. But they'll begin to get better, don't worry."  
"What gives you such faith in these criminals?" Ibiki asked, leaning back in his chair. "I've read some about these kids. They've done some pretty crazy shit." I nodded.  
"I can see why, though. And if we have a damn good lawyer, people can see it my way."  
"One of them… the funny looking one, is he insane?"  
"Not that I can tell," I replied. "But they're all funny looking." Ibiki sighed.  
"You're just one big headache. I really don't see anything in these ones."  
"Sir, just given half of a chance, they could be good, respectable citizens. You know, like me?" Ibiki raised an eyebrow.  
"You're the exception to all the rules, you know that? I don't think anyone can turn around like you."  
"Oh, I think they can."  
"They all got dead brothers or something?" I grinned, almost evilly.  
"Why, yes. I believe so."

* * *

"What's he in for?" I cried in horror and astonishment. Iruka flinched at my anger.  
"Assaulting a teacher, like I said."  
"Are you serious?" I screamed, feeling like throwing something through my window. "How old was he?"  
"Eleven."  
"Iruka, after all I let you in on yesterday, you still believe that?"  
"If he's willing to assault a guard-"  
"You call yesterday assault?" I cried. "Good grief, Iruka, you think he would enjoy waking up to find some strange man hovering oddly close to him? After all I've told you, you think yesterday was assault?"  
"It was resistance, at least," Iruka said. I snorted.  
"No it wasn't. Iruka, my God, don't you get what this means? Don't you understand?" I threw up my arms in frustration. "He was sexually abused by a teacher for years! And after fainting, of course, making him helpless, he opens his eyes to find a man hovering over him! What do you think goes through his sick little mind?" Iruka was staring at me again as if I were mad. Well, good. Maybe if I were mad I could relate to my patients more. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" Iruka's face stayed blank. Why? Why did everyone I talk to have to just keep their damn mouths shut? "You're a man, I suppose it's hard to grasp. If someone violates you, invades your most private and intimate of spaces, it ruins you. It does so many things to your mental health, that mostly you'll end up alone, poor, hungry, homeless, or dead. That is, if you don't get help. That's my job, Iruka." Oh God, I must have said something dumb now. Did I really just call him a man? Here it comes.  
"Aren't you a man?"  
"It's my job to understand both," I replied curtly. He wouldn't understand the mental discipline it took to become what I am. To go from someone like Kakuzu or Kisame (the others were a little farther to the edge of the cliff than I had ever been) to a respectable citizen that was trusted with youth took as much mental discipline as if I had changed species. That teacher, whoever he was, had a right to uphold. He had been granted the opportunity to work with his country's youth. And he abused that right. But that's off topic.  
"But he didn't just assault the teacher after school or something. It was right in the middle of the class, plenty of witnesses." I paused. He snapped. It wasn't self-defense- well, it was, but not in the raw, normal context- but just snapping from the abuse. This was interesting, so interesting. Zetsu was given towards a violent anger, but when abused, I would guess he wasn't angry, more scared and hurt. It was then he would close up. But in closing up, would he harbor a bitter, potentially explosive frustration or anger? Eleven, after he met Pein and Konan. Three years after he had met them. Same teacher? Huh? This didn't make sense.  
"Get me this teacher. I need all the information that is available to the public." I wasn't talking to Iruka anymore. And this time he finally got the hint and left. I got up and stretched, before making my way to Ibiki's office.

* * *

"His file? Well, let's see… we've found things that weren't available before."  
"Why didn't you inform me?" I asked, slightly affronted.  
"We're looking into it. But here's some things we've been able to get. He was registered in Konoha public school. In Konoha, schools go from K to eighth, and then high school. It's close to Amegakure, which has a lot of crime. They're a bit short of teachers in Konoha, so they get a lot of funny ones. That's where Hatake came from. He was, and is, the best teacher to happen to the system. The kids all love him, and the test scores have gone up." Ibiki wrinkles his nose. "There was no reason for Zetsu to start screaming at and hitting him in the middle of class, then run away."  
"Family life. Who did Zetsu live with?"  
"No one. All alone. Tell me, how does that affect a kid?" Ibiki had a rough exterior, but he was a sweetie at heart. He cared about these kids.  
"It makes them subject to their own thoughts, for starters," I said. "It all has to do with imprinters, which would bore you to tears." Ibiki nodded.  
"So…"  
"So, supposing Zetsu was given towards depressive, reserved, feelings, he would have to be that way without anyone telling him otherwise. Sort of as if the things wrong with you become your parents." I shrugged again.  
"So why would he assault a teacher?" I sighed, looking around before leaning over the desk.  
"He was obviously sexually abused at a young age," I said. Ibiki spat out his cigarette.  
"That's disgusting!" he cried. "Are you serious?" I nodded. "To what extent? Can you tell? Is he talking?"  
"No. At the young age he was subject to it, I'm willing to bet it was pretty extensive, given how out of it he is. I'm not surprised he turned to drugs for comfort."  
"But he's going to be tried for this! You're going to have to get some sort of confession." I sighed sadly.  
"You can't expect him to be open about this. Would you be open about something like this?" Ibiki frowned.  
"I honestly can't say," he admitted. "You just do your thing."  
"Thank you, sir. Oh, can I request another group therapy session?"  
"All right, between who?"  
"Same. Tobi and Zetsu. I think I have a plan."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Nikki is so ashamed. :( I've had this sitting around, and was working on the original version of it when I suddenly got a review from MotherTheresa8, and remembered I haven't updated in... a shamefully long time. Aaaaanyway, excuse time: I'm in summer school, and I'm working. Plus writer's block is here to visit while my muse decided to run away. Please read, review, and enjoy!

-WP

* * *

I looked the two over. Zetsu was on a slippery slope with his eating disorders, and Tobi was looking very, very worried. "You two aren't dangerous," I informed them. I was going to have to be careful with my vocabulary here. "And I know prison life is hard. But I'm going to do you two a huge favour. You don't get much privacy, so-"  
"What are you implying?" Zetsu growled.  
"Not much more than two friends would enjoy a conversation together without guards hovering around. I give you my word this room is not wired. There are no cameras. As for myself, I could really go for a refreshing cup of coffee." I stood and set my clipboard down. "You two can sit tight until I'm back, right?" Tobi nodded enthusiastically.  
"Yup!" I smiled and gave him a meaningful look.  
"I know it's sometimes easy to talk about certain things with someone you trust." And with that, I was out of the door. I heard Zetsu get up and rush to the door. He was waiting for me to be gone. Might as well give him what he wants, right?

* * *

Of course, it was so simple. I couldn't expect Zetsu to tell me something he had never told even his closest friends. And Tobi was a good boy, after all. As I was getting my coffee in the staff lounge, Iruka approached me.  
"What the hell are you doing?" he growled.  
"Getting coffee. Why, is this decaf or something?" Iruka rolled his eyes.  
"Don't you have patients?"  
"They can handle themselves. A lot of problems don't need a professional, you know."  
"What?" Iruka looked like he could've hit me. "I really have to question your judgment."  
"Go ahead and question it, it's out for lunch at the moment," I informed him coolly.  
"I try to see the good in everyone, but I'm sort of struggling with you."  
"Keep floundering, I'm sure someone will help you out." Damn, this man was getting annoying.  
"I think you're harming the kids."  
"You've started your past three sentences with the word 'I'," I remarked. "You're forcing yourself on me, you're forcing what you think and all, and it's making me feel rather threatened. Back off, will you?" I turned and took my coffee and myself elsewhere.

* * *

Ten minutes. Was that enough to divulge a secret that big? Better give them another five. I sipped at my cold coffee. How does Zetsu feel? Sexual abuse victims had so many ranges. But Zetsu had fought back against his aggressor, did this give him some sort of strength to continue? Or was the fact he was getting in trouble for standing up for himself having a negative effect on this? I chuckled to myself. Who was I kidding? Everything was negative with him.

* * *

I knocked on my office door, and waited for a reply. I heard soft whispers.  
"Come in!" Tobi finally called. I opened the door slowly, stepping back in and shutting it behind me.  
"I trust you two had a good chat?" Tobi nodded. Zetsu was looking rather pale and sick. "Zetsu, you don't look good. Would you like to go back and rest?" Zetsu nodded, and stood, in a daze, allowing himself to be led from the room. I turned to Tobi and smiled. "So, you two had a nice talk?" Tobi nodded, looking solemn. "Was it serious?" Tobi nodded, looking kind of torn. "If there's anything you ever need to tell me, just go ahead."  
"Are you using me to get information out of Zetsu?" he cried.  
"No. Please, I'm not that evil." I grinned. "But if something's bothering you, Tobi, don't hesitate to talk. I know you've had a hard life." Tobi seemed somewhat taken aback. Just as I expected.  
"Not as hard as some."  
"But we all have our own baggage, let alone other people's. If your load ever gets too heavy, feel free to chat."

* * *

I stepped into the smoky bar, taking off my hat and swishing it to clear the air. "Hello?" I called. The bartender looked up.  
"'Allo mate, what can I do you for?"  
"Nothing, sir. I'm here on official business." The bartender leaned on his elbow, frowning. I sat delicately on the cheap barstool. "Taki Orochimaru, I presume?" The man had pale, unhealthy skin and long black hair.  
"Yeah, that's me," he grunted. "What ya want?"  
"I'm form the public psychological services of Amegakure. Do you have a license to sell alcohol?"  
"Course I do!" the man cried.  
"May I see it?"  
"Certainly!" the man said, hurrying to the back of the bar. I smirked, and took the opportunity to look around. No customers, but it was only just the beginning of lunch. There was a man seated next to me, however. I smiled at him, wondering why he looked familiar.  
"Looks like the boss is in trouble," he said, chuckling. I blinked.  
"Oh no, no trouble. It's just regulation." I smiled, and the man seemed more put-off. My smiles do that. I scrutinized him. He looked old, but couldn't be that old. He had long white hair and a friendly, laid-back demeanor. "You a friend of Mr. Taki?"  
"Oh, we've known each other a while," he said.  
"Through children?" The man paused, looking at me suspiciously.  
"You hear what happened to his?"  
"Yes, unfortunately. So sad."  
"Yes."  
"It's so terrible to lose a son," I said, not even thinking.  
"You have any?" the man shot.  
"No, I plan on waiting," I replied casually. "And yourself?"  
"None," the man said bitterly. What was with him? I don't make it my business to psychologically analyze every person I meet, but who-  
I stopped dead. I felt my hands start to sweat, and my collar suddenly felt very tight. Luckily, or unluckily, Mr. Taki returned.  
"Ah, here are the documents," he said, handing over a few papers. I glanced at them and handed them back.  
"Just procedure, you understand, when meeting in these circumstances," I said with a smile. "Now then, I'm here to speak with you as two professionals, man to man." Buddying up to him made me want to hurl, but it was the only way to get what I needed. "I do recall a good friend of mine speaking to me about you. I'm a psychiatrist, you see, and I was wondering if you would mind having a chat?" Mr. Taki was eyeing me suspiciously.  
"What are you talking about?" he asked.  
"I'm not proposing anything large. Little steps. Perhaps if we just chatted over coffee, you can see if you actually like…" I smiled. He wasn't taking the bait. "Mr. Taki, life sometimes throws hardballs. How can you be expected to deal with them if you don't have a bat?" We'll pretend I didn't say that. But he sighed.  
"All right. I'll take my lunch break after the rush. Say two?" I smiled.  
"Why, yes. Whatever suites you. For now, I think I'll have a chicken sandwich." Mr. Taki nodded and went back to the kitchen. I sat down on the barstool and smiled at the man.  
"What did you say your name was?" he asked gruffly.  
"Hino," I replied. "And yourself?"  
"Jiraiya." I shivered, but kept my smile.  
"Glad to meet you." We shook hands. "Is this a regular spot for lunch?"  
"Who, me? Yeah, I come here a lot. But that's only 'cause Orochimaru… well, after he lost his son…" I looked on politely. "He… he changed. I think therapy would be good for him." 'He's not the only one,' I thought.  
"Yes, but I have to be the one to make the first move. It's very hard to get this kind of help on your own." Jiraiya nodded.  
"I hear." 'Do you?' I wondered. 'Do you even breathe?'. Mr. Taki returned with my hastily thrown together sandwich.  
"There ya go," he said. I paid him smilingly, and didn't show the hesitation I felt at biting into the greasy specimen before me. It was for the kids.

* * *

I had him. Across the table from me, and with a cup of coffee, but I had him. "I know this is a hard topic, but let's start small." Mr. Taki glowered.  
"I don't see why I have to talk about this," he said huffily.  
"No one's forcing you." Except me and my mind tricks. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Let's start from the beginning, hmm? Your parents. How were they?" Bridge workers, by chance?  
"Fine. Nothing wrong there." Same answer as Hidan. Almost.  
"To know it was fine, and there was nothing wrong, what aspect of your life was wrong?"  
"Nothing. I… I am wrong." I looked at him sympathetically. The little shit.  
"Do you know how they build bridges?" I asked. Taki shook his head. "They build them over large bodies of water, so that one side can reach another. Do you know what keeps up bridges?" He looked shaken. "It's called bridge cable. And it's made from tiny wires all wound and melded together. Tiny wires sting and can cut the skin, and hurt like hell, but wound together, they're blunt, and often don't break the skin, but rather bruise the inside. Do you get where this is going?" He was sweating.  
"No. I don't get it."  
"Altogether, you can't see them. The hurt they cause is internal. But if we pick the strands apart, we can see where the wound is." Taki nodded, licking his lips. "How was your childhood?"  
"Normal."  
"And adolescence?"  
"Normal."  
"Young adult life?"  
"Fine." Opinion. Most doctors can define normal, but none can define fine.  
"When you met your wife…?"  
"We… we never married."  
"Oh?"  
"We dated for a while, and then she drifted on. But a few years later I got a call saying she had died, and I had to take home my son." What a tale.  
"And what was his name? Did you name him?"  
"No, by the time I got him he was a year old. She had named him Kakuzu."  
"That's a very good name," I said. "So you raised him?"  
"Yes. Until he was fourteen."  
"Is that something you feel comfortable talking about?" Of course he would. He'd give me a show, wipe at his eyes with his napkin, then retell his story haltingly, until he started lying. They knew their lie too well, it wasn't as if it were true.  
"I… I don't really know…"  
"You really loved him, didn't you?" I said sympathetically. "Even though you didn't have much say, he was still your son." Taki nodded. That wasn't right. I was breaching my own rules, here, telling him what I wanted to hear.  
"He was my only son, because his mother was the only one I loved." Liar. You beat your son because she left you.  
"I see. And you tried to raise him right? Tried ever so hard?" Taki nodded.  
"As hard as parents do." Of course he did.  
"And what happened?"  
"He… he didn't come home one day." I watched him intently. I almost had him. A confession in an actual session was worthless. A confession here was worthless. A confession in court wasn't. "I waited for him, and then I called the cops. I was out looking for him when they called my cell phone. They said to come down to the police station, to identify a body." I nodded. "Just like that… he was gone. Just… gone." I've dealt with people who've lost children and you, sir, did not lose a child. You lost your punching bag.  
"I'm sure you've told that story so many times," I sighed. Play it clueless.  
"Yes. Apparently he had been beaten and drowned in the river."  
"By who?" I cried, pretending to be upset and not noticing he was just stringing me along.  
"They… we… don't know. Never caught him."  
"Him?"  
"I only assume. I don't know."  
"If you found that man, or woman, who killed or harmed your son, would you kill them?" I asked. Taki nodded.  
"I'd crush them."  
"Make me a promise," I said. "If anyone finds this person, don't kill them. Do the right, and just thing. Can you promise this?"  
"You don't know what you're asking-"  
"Orochimaru, I am a professional. I know exactly what you're feeling, and I am only looking out for your wellbeing. Promise me."  
"I… I promise." I smiled warmly at him.  
"Thank you. Believe me, I know your pain. I only want to help."

* * *

"He showed up? But how?"  
"I don't know! None of them are supposed to be here!" Madara threw his arms up. "This just causes problems. Now Itachi is back, and so are Nagato and Konan. Jiraiya, why are they back? I thought you told them the police were after them!"  
"I did!" Jiraiya cried. "But… but this isn't all! What about Kakashi?" Madara growled.  
"That bastard. I'll get him off of any charges, as I will all of you. And hopefully I can give him back his little toy. And I'll get Orochimaru back his Kakuzu, and you can have Konan and Nagato. As for Itachi and whatever freaky others they have…" He grinned sadistically. "They'll all be gone for a very, very long time." Jiraiya rolled his eyes.  
"What about that psychiatrist? What did you say to him?"  
"Oh? I gave him the same story I give everyone. And then you know what? He made me promise that if I ever met the person responsible for killing or harming my son I wouldn't kill them, but I'd to the just and right thing. Ha! Can you believe that?" Silence. "Guys?"  
"I think…" Madara said slowly, "that I may need to have a conversation with that man."  
I sniggered quietly to myself. How I had convinced Iruka to help him listen to the tapes was a mystery even to myself, but maybe he was wanting to make amends. Lucky me.

* * *

"Have you ever had to physically stand up for yourself?" I asked. "Are you used to relying on your strength?"  
"What else do I have to rely on?" Kisame asked.  
"Wits. Cunningness. Brains. Other people. There's quite a list." Kisame laughed.  
"Is there? I don't see it. In some cases, the bigger ones survive better." I nodded.  
"Sounds primitive," I commented. And it hit me. Kisame was very primitive, with his shouting and flailing. And he had been in an environment to thrive. It wasn't his taste, it was his mannerisms that were pleased. But what would make him so… bullish? "What sort of things made physical strength better?" Kisame remained quiet.  
"They… they couldn't hit you like the others." I nodded. It seemed reasonable. "That's why Hidan's always so angry." I almost did a double take, but instead stared politely into Kisame's eyes.  
"What?"  
"That's why he's angry. He's a tough guy, but… he's not the biggest. I mean, if you've got an eleven year old me, and an eleven year old him, and some huge drunk thirty-year-old, who's gonna win?"  
"Who took care of you?"  
"Me," Kisame said proudly. "Who else? My parents got arrested for doing this shit to me." He gestured vaguely at his skin. "No clue what they did, but it sure as hell don't come out." Kisame shrugged. "Only way a person like me can avoid a beating is to bring it to 'em." He laughed then. I nodded. It made sense.  
"How long have you known Hidan?"  
"Since we were kids, practically. He had some freaky parents, and was five when he was finally taken from them. Got shoved around a lot, but he was a cutie-" Kisame stopped dead. My expression hadn't changed. I had to agree, Hidan is cute. I smiled, wanting to make him more at ease.  
"I agree. Under that exterior he is a charming boy. Do continue." Kisame nodded.  
"But whenever he came back, of course I was still there. Eventually I started standing up for him, but that just got me hit more. But… it was worth it, I guess, to have a friend." Indecisive, to try to seem not attached to these feelings or ideas he was telling me about. "When he came back one time, he took me to his room-" Kisame stopped again, but seeing as I hadn't reacted, he continued. "-and said we were running away. So we did. And we found Akatsuki." Kisame nodded. "And that's what's got me here." Being threatened, and threatening back, was a way to survive. He didn't know it was wrong. He was practically rewarded for physically standing up for himself, if it got him out of a beating.  
"Thank you. This is all going to get better." I lay a hand on his shoulder. Kisame nodded.  
"Can I go now? Please?"  
"Yes." But why was he telling me these things? Where had his support system- Itachi.


End file.
